He sleeps hours on end while I fret.
He sits up in a recliner while I cook and fret.
He gets up to pee, yep, I fret.
He fights me over using his walker, my fretting heart pounds, fretting hands shake.
He is sad that he scared me, I feel guilty for that-and that makes me fret.
He smiles again, now back in bed, I try to lie down too.
I am fretting so much, I get up and clean,
” The visiting nurse will think I am an unfit caregiver…”
” The health department will take Dad away…”
” I better make more jello…”
Fretting, I twist my hands together and bite my lip.
” I must rest! Lay down and rest Kiko! Ok, ok I will…”
“Just as soon as I mop that backroom, there was a spot of kitty puke…”
” I really must quit fretting and lie down, I am exhausting myself…”
I lie down on the couch, heart pounding, back burning, mind racing.
Willing myself to rest I feel the room move away, and a warm cloud embrace.
Breathing slows, muscles begin to loosen and sleep is at the door…
He wakes up…I leap up, fretting that he will fall before I get there.
My mind feels like it is full of silver needles in a messy pile,
the needles are the shiny lines where my thoughts should be.
When they find us on the floor, which one will be on the bottom?
Except I don’t have any, cause I have been fretting to much to wash.
I would have to leave him, and go outside to the washer.
He looks up from his cushy pillow, under the nicest comforter.
He says, “I love you.”
“Sit down now, and rest.”
The fretting stops, the faith flows in, and I lie down next to Dad,